Kiss Me
by Elena Chamberlain
Summary: Sweet moments between Minako and Kunzite as they moved into their new home.
1. Kiss Kiss

"The bed sheets have flowers." The shock and disbelief were evident in his silky baritone, and his posture was rigid as he surveyed the room. Light grey eyes darkened to the colour of storm clouds before zeroing in on her. His face was impassive, but the light twitch at the corner of his mouth that indicated his amusement didn't escape her notice. Repressing the urge to giggle as she was wont to, Minako knelt on the bed. Her arms encircled Kunzite's broad shoulders as his hands settled on her waist.

"Don't complain. I let you paint the walls blue," she said, and batted her eyelashes at him. "You can always change the bedding when you want to."

His mouth formed a straight line. "Sky blue," he corrected, long fingers digging a little harder into the bare skin between her green tank top and white shorts. A moment of silence, then a finely sculpted eyebrow rose. "What colour would you have painted them otherwise?"

Her smile widened into a Cheshire Cat grin. "Yellow!" she exclaimed, beaming. "Pastel yellow. Like the ribbon of my fuku."

Horror flashed on his face. It vanished as soon as it had come. "You're kidding."

Shaking her head, she bit her lower lip to contain her bubbling laughter at his deadpan expression. It always brought her joy to catch him unawares; a rare occurrence, given his uncanny ability to anticipate her every thought. "Nope, am not. I'd paint it butter yellow just to annoy you," she said, pressing her body against his.

Eyes the shade of the Caribbean Sea sparkled. He knew if she was given carte blanche, the house would be furnished in patterned wallpaper and frills and gilded furniture, with snapshots of their lives displayed on every sideboard, the fireplace, and a variety of surfaces which were impossible to miss. Dipping his forehead to hers, Kunzite exhaled a heavy sigh, defeated for the time being. She would have given him premature grey hairs if his hair wasn't a light colour to begin with.

"Why did I let you decorate the bedrooms again?" he said. He studied the golden girl in his arms, her face bright like the afternoon sun streaming into the room. Birdsong and the distant conversations of their neighbours drifted in. Despite his excellent hearing, he was only dimly aware of the voices outside. Minako filled his vision, her distinct roses and honeysuckle scent encompassing all his senses.

"Because you already picked the house and the furniture and tableware, though I still think the Vera Wang collection would have gone better than the Queen's Plain," she quipped, matter-of-fact. "It's Wedgwood, for crying out loud, no one I know _ever_ opted for their non-patterned plates and cups and bowls that look like standard Ikea or Jusco when they go to Wedgwood. Not that I hold anything against the other two, mind you, but I'm _finally_ escaping the evil clutches of my mother and moving in with you, which I was unable to in our past life because of the decree of some selfish, narrow-minded gods and goddesses. And then you have to be boring like my dad in your choices, going straight for the plainest designs when there are multiple ranges that would complement the kitchen to perfection." She pouted, and huffed, her small nose wriggling prettily. He thought the same nose movement would have procured a bizarre and comical effect on another. "It's our home, Kunzite. We are beginning a new adventure together after—"

Her diatribe was interrupted when his lips descended in a fierce kiss that stole her breath and sent her mind reeling, the unexpected passion of the touch causing the room and the July heat and everything else to fade into nothingness. Her legs had become water. Minako was thankful of the bed supporting her weight and his strong hands holding her upright in his arms. Sinking into the kiss, her eyes fluttered closed as one of her hands became lost in the silk of his hair. The other fisted in the front of his cotton shirt as she pulled him down onto the bed.

She moaned when his mouth parted hers, mentally noting the feeling of completion that enveloped her every time they touched. Kunzite was her missing half, her light in the shadows. If they were alone right now, she would have ripped his clothes away to become one in body and soul with him. Too bad she couldn't monopolise her love to her heart's content just yet.

"I love you," she breathed, dazed from their kiss. It mattered naught that he hadn't let her finish her monologue. She could always remind him in future days to come. They had time aplenty. Didn't have to rush.

He rose on his elbows, and smoothed back her bangs from her face. "This isn't how I envisioned christening our new home."

"That is the _only_ way to christen our new home, love. Besides," Giving him a saucy smile, she glanced at the ring on her ring finger. She couldn't help wondering why he continued to wear his on a necklace. They were practically married, anyway. "Isn't that why you love me?"

He chuckled. Her chest hummed as his warm breath fanned her face. "Always a minx, aren't you?"

"What do you think?" she said and slammed her mouth against his, thirsting for his taste of peppermint and exotic spices that she could never quite name.

Kunzite groaned, momentarily succumbing to her seduction. His hand slid under the hem of her top, and palmed her flat stomach. He could feel her heart beat in tandem with his, feel her shivers as his hand ventured higher. As she yanked his shirt out of the waistband of his jeans, he tapered down his desire, and tried to break away. "Mina…"

As always, she ardently refused to release him. She arched her body in protest. "Hmm."

"They know what we are doing," he said in between kisses.

Tangling her hands in his hair, she stared into his eyes. Desire swam in her clear blue gaze. "Let them wait."

As much as he would love to indulge her, they _did _have other matters that needed tackling. "We should go down." He slanted his mouth against hers. "When have we," A flick of his tongue on her bottom lip, "taken," Allowing one, last heated kiss, he pulled away, and checked his watch. "ten minutes."

She pouted, like a child denied her favourite toy. "What is one exception?"

His heart softened at the sight of her: face flushed, long hair fanned out in a golden halo, blue, blue eyes filled with love and trust. He smiled, stroked her silken cheek with his thumb. "We will have the house all to ourselves once they leave."

Minako blinked up at him as she considered this. She bit her lip, her brow furrowed. In less than five seconds, a blindingly exquisite grin lit up her face. "Okay," she chirped, voice melodious. "Is that a promise?"

Kunzite laughed. Give it to Minako to have such swift change in moods. She would make his life a merry dance.

The phone rang, blaring Holly Valance's "Kiss Kiss". She slipped out from under him to grab her phone from the night stand. Pressing answer, she put the call on speaker. She failed to stifle the laughter in her voice as he kissed the curve where neck met shoulder. "Hi there. We're busy at the moment. Please call again in-"

"_Busy_ my ass!" Zoisite's annoyed voice reverberated in the room. "Stop having so much sex and come downstairs if you want to move in today, you idiots. We can hear you from the _kitchen_!"


	2. Good Morning

The sound of bare feet padding on the hardwood floor caused Kunzite to look up from the morning paper and pause in taking another sip of his coffee. He prided having a steady hand and years of wearing a blank mask as his default expression. When Minako sauntered into the kitchen wearing only his shirt and panties, high cheeks and pert mouth rosy from their morning lovemaking, desire swam in his veins and blood rushed to male parts that his shower had tamped down. Residual water droplets glistened on her long neck and chest, and as she walked past him to open the refrigerator and poured a glass of milk, he mentally noted that his shampoo had never smelt so good on him.

The floral fragrance that was her scent was sufficient to give him dirty thoughts on any given day, and now with his lavender shampoo clinging to her skin, he wanted to devour her like a man starved for many days.

Adjusting his reading glasses, he hardly noticed the black coffee had burned his tongue as his eyes alternated between reading the next line of the news before him and the vixen sipping her milk. His shirt was two sizes too large for her and reached the middle of her white thighs. As she threw back her head to empty the glass, the shirttails rose with her arm, and revealed more of that baby soft skin that he couldn't seem to get enough of behind closed doors.

Throwing decorum to the wind, ignoring the fact that he had had her moaning and writhing under him less than an hour prior, he slammed his cup on the table, walked the long stride separating them, and pulled her into his arms with the urgency of a man who had found his heart's desire after years of deprivation as she set her glass into the sink. A squeak of surprise escaped her mouth as he buried his nose in the tantalising curve between neck and shoulder to inhale her unique fragrance. Her hair was still wet, and he could feel the moisture leaving a sizable spot on his collar, but he couldn't care less when his beloved shifted and encircled her arms around him, her supple body melding perfectly to his.

"You are wearing my shirt," he said against her neck and kissed her collarbone. The aroma of fresh toast and waffles and coffee were nothing compared to the sweet scent of her skin.

She shivered, a contented moan vibrating in her throat. "I like that it smells like you. It makes me feel as though you are holding me."

He chuckled, one hand trailing down to cup her rear and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I didn't realise my shirts are better than me."

Fisting her hands on his back, she pulled away the moment he raised his head to look into her cornflower blue eyes. "You are not honestly jealous of your shirt, are you? It cannot duplicate the feelings you ignite in me, nor does it make my heart race when you give me the smile that is only reserved for me and maybe sometimes Mamoru and -"

She looked so delectable with a pout and a small frown that he couldn't resist brushing a light kiss on her lips. She stiffened against him, but gradually relaxed into the kiss and opened her mouth to him, her tongue shyly touching his as he sought entry.

The kiss lasted for almost a minute. Breaking away, he tucked her head under his chin. He was contented that he had moments like this with her every morning before he left the house to face the vultures at work. To think that this was what he had abandoned for the red-haired witch's corruption, _twice_. He was a lucky bastard his little princess did not blow him her kiss of death again when he arrived at her doorstep to seek her forgiveness.

"Why are you _always _interrupting me?" she asked, her warm breath fanning the crook of his neck.

He closed his eyes and breathed in her hair. She _did_ smell good everywhere. "You talk too much, love."

"You don't talk enough as it is, so I'm talking for the both of us. Do you realise how wonderful your voice is?"

"I was told it is too harsh."

"Only when you are angry. Otherwise your voice alone is enough to make me melt."

"Does it." Putting some distance between them, he tilted her chin up. Blue eyes blinked at him, the innocence in her face reminded him how young she was despite her years as a senshi. "It's Sunday, and the sun is bright today. How about we take a walk to the park and go to Tokyo Tower? I'll even let you pick the restaurant for lunch." He paused, and palmed her face. "Dinner too if you want to do some shopping and buy those Wedgwood tableware we were discussing."

The shine in her eyes and her blinding grin were all the answers that he needed.


	3. Happy Valentines

Grey eyes opened as the first morning birds commenced their daily practice. He rolled to his side and groped for the clock, squinting in the dim light to read the time. 6:45am, fifteen minutes before the alarm would shatter the silence in the room. Habitually an early riser, he peeled away the down comforter and swung his long legs off his side of the bed, careful not to wake the blonde sleeping soundly like a babe. She didn't have classes on Mondays, so he would not rouse her unless he had to.

Tugging the covers around Minako, his heart skipped a beat at the tiny smile adorning her face. He wondered what she saw in her dreams as his fingers brushed aside stray cornsilk tendrils that had escaped onto her face. With her aura encompassing her in a faint shimmer, she resembled an angel. As was his ritual, he sent his thanks to the heavens for bestowing this jewel of a young woman upon him.

He leaned down, and pressed his lips lightly to a flushed cheek. She had brought the light back into his life. Nothing would make him give her up again.

Walking towards the en-suite bathroom, he removed the ring he wore around his neck, and slipped it onto his ring finger.

* * *

She was in the kitchen when he finished his shower.

She hummed to the tune of the pop song on the radio, lithe body swaying sideways in tandem with the upbeat rhythm. Like a dancer, he thought, a dancer waiting for her partner to swing her around.

His eyes travelled up her slim calves to the expanse of milky white thighs below the hem of his shirt. Mouth dry, he sidled up to her, hands resting on her slim waist. Needing to touch her. She uttered a surprised 'oh!' at the contact, but gradually relaxed to lean into his arms. He mentally noted he should have announced his presence.

"You are up early," he said. The kitchen clock read 7:08am.

"I wanted to make you breakfast," she replied, tilting up to look at him. "It's Valentine's Day."

He smiled. He laid a hand upon hers to help her flip the omelette. The side up had been cooked to a pure yellow colour with streaks of egg white. Just the way he liked it. "You didn't have to drag yourself out of bed."

Her hair tickled his chin as she shook her golden head. She turned off the fire, sliding the omelette onto a plate. "I can sleep again after you have left for work."

He took the plate from her and put it on the kitchen table. "I took the day off."

She blinked. Once, twice. Repeat. "But it's Monday."

How adorable, he thought and pulled her closer. "Like you said, it's Valentine's Day."

"You don't take day offs in the week." Incredulity filled her voice.

The corners of his mouth lifted. Was he such a workaholic? "A photographer can choose his schedule." He dipped his forehead to hers, lost in her blue, blue eyes. "Especially one whose gorgeous fiancée might Love and Beauty Shock him."

She blushed. "I will do no such thing." Then, as if an idea had struck her, she worried her lip, frowning. "Won't your female coworkers be disappointed?"

He chuckled, and kissed the tip of her nose. "I suppose." He waited a beat. "Although the only chocolates I want are those from you."

Her eyes widened, and she pushed at him playfully. "I hate you. Valentine's Day chocolates are expensive."

Teasing her was always fun.

* * *

The sun kissed her skin in a warm caress, but its warmth could not rival the heat offered by the strong, capable grip of the man she loved. Minako leaned against the tree, drawing Kunzite close to her. Valentine's Day should be made a public holiday, she thought; people that are not in a relationship should be able to enjoy peace of mind at home or elsewhere.

She thanked her goddess she no longer had to glare at shameless couples on this day.

Exhaling a contented breath, she wrapped her arms around him. Her heart gave a little flutter at his smile. "Why are you so tall?"

His eyes crinkled. "You are too short."

"Five-nine isn't short." She stood on her toes, her eyes level with his chin. "You are just too tall. Tall and big like a giant."

"There are men taller than I am, love," he said with a feigned sigh. "I will be a dwarf when I stand beside basketball players."

"Liar," she breathed. "You will always stand out in a crowd with your height, and I will never have to look for you."

"You will never have to look for me again," he said, voice soft. He looked at her for a moment, then he cradled her face in his palms, his lips descending upon hers. The kiss started light, their mouths just brushing, tasting.

She relaxed under him, her tongue shyly touching his bottom lip. Her hands slipped under his jacket, fisting the fabric of his shirt. She moaned when he pulled away too soon.

"Not here, little princess," he said. "People are staring."

Dazed, she opened her eyes and looked around them. Only a handful of people milled about the park at this hour of the day. Some stole glances at them, yes, but most took a look and walked on unperturbed. It would not be the first time they found couples cuddling and kissing in the heat of the moment. It would not be the last time, either.

Stealing another kiss, she touched her fingers to the back of his hands. "Let's go home, then."


End file.
